


The Grand Admiral

by elektroboot98



Category: RWBY, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Volume 2 (RWBY), War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektroboot98/pseuds/elektroboot98
Summary: The dreaded White Fang has been growing in strength and is becoming more and more of a threat to the kingdoms. In order to combat this threat, at least within their own borders, the Council of the Kingdom of Atlas has turned for help to the only Faunus to serve as a commissioned officer in their military: Grand Admiral Thrawn.Originally posted on fanfiction.net





	1. Checking In

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first crossover fic. As the summary indicates, it introduces Grand Admiral Thrawn, everyone's favorite villain from the Star Wars Expanded Universe, into RWBY's world of Remnant.
> 
> The story starts around the time of the events of Volume 2, Episode 1. Though I'll be using the Gregorian Calendar as far as days and months are concerned within Remnant, since it does have the same four seasons we have on Earth.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> Disclaimers:
> 
> I own neither RWBY nor Star Wars.
> 
> All Atlesian firearms and a few of the ship names are the property of fanfiction.net author NicodemusV.
> 
> Special thanks to fanfiction.net author TheDarkDeceiver for inspiring me to write this story with his crossover fic The Dark Headmaster.
> 
> Update Log:
> 
> -(5/15/17): Changed airship classes to names of Star Destroyer-classes (Victory, Imperator, etc.). Why? Because with a few changes, such as removal of deflector shields, hyperdrives, and other space technology, these fine ships will be comprising the Atlesian Air Fleet. Also made a few changes to Thrawn's history.

**September 24th, 80AGW (After Great War)  
** **1027 hours  
** **Outskirts of the Kingdom of Vale**

The _Victory_ -class destroyer was the mainstay of the Atlesian Navy's famous Air Fleet. Boasting highly-advanced weapons and fire control systems and the ability to carry and rapidly deploy ground troops, it was the perfect symbol of Atlas' technological might.

Though it was slowly being replaced by the newer  _Imperators_ , the class still made up most of the fleet's order of battle, and numerous refurbishment and overhaul programs were being undertaken to prolong the life of these aging vessels.

Also, while just one of these airships made for an intimidating sight, owing in no small part to the dagger shape of its hull (a trait echoed in all following airship designs), the presence of three would surely strike fear into the hearts of even the most experienced opponents.

At least that was what General James Ironwood thought.

Which was why he was currently standing at the bridge of one such vessel, the ANV _Future Red_ , as it cruised through the sky, 15,000 feet off the ground, towards the kingdom of Vale with two of its sister ships in tow.

As the appointed Head of Security for the upcoming Vytal Festival, and in light of the recent rise in White Fang activity, Ironwood felt a show of force was necessary in order to deter any possible threats to the festival, its participants, and the kingdom itself.

He was confident that the three destroyers and the soldiers they carried would show the White Fang and any other criminals that Atlas meant business.

"General, we're entering Valean airspace," the _Future Red_ 's captain announced, "ETA to Vale City is approximately twenty minutes."

"Very good, Captain." Ironwood acknowledged, "Inform me once we've arrived."

"Of course, General."

The General of the Atlesian Ground Forces then left the bridge and made the long walk back to his personal quarters, returning the salute of any wayward crewman he happened across.

Upon arriving at his quarters, he immediately sat down at his desk. It was hardly anything to brag about, containing only the essential stationary and a large LCD touchscreen to which he could connect his Scroll.

Speaking of his Scroll, Ironwood felt it vibrate in the pocket of his jacket, indicating that someone was calling him. He removed the device and plugged it into the monitor.

The General felt his brow furrow as he saw the name that appeared on the screen.

**_Thrawn_.**

There was hardly a single soldier, sailor, or officer in the entire Atlesian Armed Forces who didn't know that name, owing to the fact that its owner was the first Faunus to serve in the upper ranks of any branch of the military. A remarkable achievement, considering both Atlas' history of poor relations with the Faunus and the blatant racism that some within the military tended to display, causing most Faunus recruits to end up simply as foot soldiers or grunts.

Ironwood's relationship with the man was complicated to say the least. On one hand, Thrawn was the most outspoken critic of the General's plans to replace human soldiers with androids like the Atlesian Knights. He argued that human intelligence at all levels was irreplaceable, and could often prove the key to winning not just battles, but wars as a whole.

Perhaps it was because the idea of a _naval_ officer lecturing a General on ground warfare seemed ludicrous, but the disagreement generated both indignation and resentment towards Thrawn on Ironwood's part. Even worse was the fact that the other Grand Admirals in the Navy shared Thrawn's sentiments.

And yet despite his animosity towards the Faunus officer, Ironwood respected his approach to military strategy. Like him, Thrawn chose to focus primarily on the bigger picture, placing greater emphasis on winning an entire war rather than a single battle.

He also stressed knowing his enemies, whether human or Grimm, as the key step to defeating them, and would go to great lengths to gather as much knowledge about them from as many different sources, particularly art, as he could.

Ironwood had long considered having Thrawn join Ozpin's inner circle, as his tactical and strategic prowess would certainly prove useful against the Queen's machinations. And if Qrow's warning was anything to go by, they would need all the help they could get. For now, however, the General let out a sigh as he pushed the "accept" button.

A tall man appeared on the screen, his ghostly white uniform and pitch-black boots signifying his place as a high-ranking officer in the Atlesian Navy.

Though he held the physique of a human, his pale blue skin and neatly-cropped blue-black hair gave him an almost otherworldly appearance, as though he were one of the "aliens" that the tabloids often harped on about. Equally disconcerting were his red eyes, whose intensity sharply contrasted with his otherwise suave, calculating demeanor. Each eye bore the slit pupil of a snake, distinguishing their owner as a Faunus.

This was Grand Admiral Thrawn, one of the Atlesian military's most seasoned commanders and arguably one of, if not its foremost tactician.

His origins lay hidden behind a smokescreen of rumors and conspiracy theories. Some claimed he was a battle-hardened veteran of the Great War or the Faunus Rights revolution. Others spread the more outrageous tale that he had originally part of some inhumane experiment that the Schnee Dust Company had conducted on some of its Faunus laborers.

While many military officers would mount a concerted effort to dispel slander about themselves, Thrawn did nothing of the sort, and his obscurity thus also seemed to heighten his intimidation.

But those within the military, regardless of whatever opinion they held about him, all agreed on one fact: Thrawn possessed an incredibly sharp aptitude for strategy and tactics that not even the most xenophobic of officers could ignore.

This aptitude had earned him promotion after promotion within the Navy's hierarchy, command of his own fleet, and prime responsibility for combating the White Fang cells that were operating in Atlas, a task he had been most eager to take on.

Were it not for his history with Thrawn, Ironwood would have felt absolutely unnerved by his presence, as he most certainly had been upon first encountering him.

"General Ironwood," the Grand Admiral coolly greeted his colleague.

"Thrawn," Ironwood stiffly nodded.

After a few seconds of silence, the General decided to move things along.

"How goes your campaign against the White Fang?"

"Splendidly," the snake Faunus hissed, "Our deep reconnaissance unit has finally located their headquarters in Atlas. They're hiding on the outskirts of Mantle."

Of course they would be hiding there. Mantle was a city known for its heavy Faunus population and had recently fallen on economic hardships, making it a hotspot for embittered men and women wishing to overthrow a government they believed had actively oppressed them and treated them unfairly.

"I trust you've already got a plan for eliminating them?" Ironwood questioned.

"Of course," Thrawn replied smoothly, "My plan is being executed as we speak."

_Always a step ahead._

"While this is good news, Thrawn, I hope you've called me for a more important reason."

If the Faunus admiral felt insulted by Ironwood's dismissive remark, his collected stance didn't show it.

"As a matter of fact, I have. I wish to pass along a warning to you."

"A warning?"

Thrawn nodded and pushed a few buttons, pulling up a picture of an airship that was burning in several locations as it drifted through the sky.

"Two days ago, White Fang operatives attacked one of our prison barges, the _Tzoah_ , as it was traveling back to Atlas. While the casualties among the crew were relatively light, the infiltrators that had not been subdued managed to escape with one prisoner."

Though he was a little unsure of why Thrawn would give him this information, Ironwood humored him.

"Why would they free only one prisoner?"

"In order to answer that question, I suggest you look at the prisoner himself."

A mugshot promptly appeared on the General's screen, showing a man in his mid thirties with short, brown hair and glasses that covered his blue eyes. Ironwood read the prisoner's name.

"Astor Neumann."

"A notorious hacker in the criminal underworld," Thrawn supplemented, "He specializes in data theft, planting viruses in the CCT system that allow access to any Scroll or online database in Remnant."

"And the White Fang need to hack into the CCT, so they've gone to him?"

"Precisely."

Ironwood hummed, "Do you have the _Tzoah_ 's position at the time of the attack?"

"Yes. I'm pulling it up now."

Neumann's mugshot and the picture of the _Tzoah_ disappeared from the screen and were replaced with a map of Remnant. As Ironwood watched, a pair of crosshairs appeared and zeroed in on a relatively large island just north of Vale.

"The Island of Centrum."

"Note its close proximity to Vale, the kingdom that has seen a large increase in White Fang activity over the past month."

"So what you're theorizing is that the White Fang are planning to sneak into Vale's CCT tower and introduce a virus into the system."

The snake Faunus nodded once more.

"Considering the speed with which they've been operating lately, they may already be in position to strike. It is now a question of when they intend to do so."

"They'll think twice once they see our ships over Vale," Ironwood declared confidently, "The White Fang wouldn't dare try anything under our watch."

Thrawn's cool expression became one of skepticism as he raised an eyebrow.

"I hope your gaze doesn't falter then."

Ironwood felt his mouth twitch slightly at the insinuation. He took a breath in an attempt to clear his head.

"Anything else you wish to tell me?"

"Just one more thing," Thrawn's blue lips curled into a sneer, making the General feel a bit wary of what he had to say next.

"Do be more careful with your toys, General," the Faunus chided, "We can't have them fall into the wrong hands."

Ironwood clenched his fists as the connection closed.

_Of course he would bring up the missing Paladins!_

* * *

Hundreds of miles north of Ironwood's current position, aboard the _Imperator_ -class destroyer _Chimaera_ , Thrawn turned his attention back to the White Fang propaganda posters he'd been studying in his office.

In accordance with the group's shift towards aggression, the posters each depicted, and thereby encouraged, violence towards humans.

One showed a Faunus laborer, the White Fang's flag billowing in the background, crushing a tiny, cowering caricature of the SDC's CEO Jacques Schnee, Dust containers, and other such paraphernalia with his boot while also raising a sledgehammer above him. The caption read, "Thoroughly smash the oppressive Schnees! Join the fight today!"

Another featured two White Fang members. One was strangling miniscule depictions of members of the Atlesian council, while the other was jamming the barrel of a rifle into one member's mouth. "Overthrow the tyrants!" It urged.

The posters clearly tried to empower the Faunus, either through portraying humans as cowardly or through showing that laborers could take up arms. They also played to their grievances, particularly concerning the SDC, making it all the more easier to gain recruits eager to fight for "justice."

 _Justice_ , Thrawn mused, _If ever there was a word with a more ambiguous and distorted meaning_ …

He heard someone knock on his door. Though he felt a twinge of annoyance at being disturbed, he kept his cool façade.

"Come in."

A young Petty Officer entered the room, his pauldrons bearing a stylized Chimaera as a sign of allegiance to Thrawn.

"Sir, we just received a message from the _Devastator_ ," the officer informed him, "Schatten Squad reports that Phase 1 of the operation is complete."

"Excellent," Thrawn declared.

Schatten Squad, derived from the Old Atlesian word for "shadow," was one of five commando teams that served under the military's Advanced Operations division. The squad earned the nickname due to the all-black armor worn by its members.

However, some within the military, and even within the White Fang, had recently begun referring to these commandos by a somewhat more sinister moniker.

"Anything else?" Thrawn questioned the Petty Officer.

"Yes, sir. Captain Pellaeon has requested your presence on the bridge to oversee the next phase."

"Very well. I shall head there now."

After dismissing the officer, Thrawn rose from his chair and strode to the door. He cast one last glance towards the White Fang posters before switching off the light and closing the door.

As he walked to the _Chimaera_ 's bridge, the snake Faunus' eyes blazed with a fierce determination. The White Fang had been a blight on society for too long, their violent methods serving only to threaten what little peace and stability had come out of the bloody years of war and revolution.

The time had come to start their eradication.


	2. Of Scars and Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who submitted their ideas for the story.
> 
> Credit and thanks to NicodemusV for providing the classification system for Atlesian weaponry

_The Advanced Operations branch of the Atlesian Military (AO for short) was formed in the years following the Faunus Civil Rights Protests. By this time, the Council of Atlas had determined that its kingdom could no longer rely solely on standard infantry, Huntsmen, or the Specialists to combat an increasingly militant White Fang._

_Though the branch initially only consisted of a battalion of elite soldiers from the Ground Forces, it has grown significantly in recent years and now includes subunits responsible for conducting both ground and air operations._

_AO soldiers wear armor that is distinct from the other branches of the military and carry enhanced weapons supplied primarily by Concellia Arms Co., the creators of the famous PCR-26 family of plasma combat rifles used by all branches of the Atlesian military._

* * *

**_5 days earlier_ **

**September 19th, 80AGW  
1224 hours  
** **Kingdom of Atlas  
** **Mantel District  
** **Several kilometers East of the City of Mantle  
** **White Fang Atlas Headquarters**

The air at the base was tense. Hardly anyone cracked a joke or a smile.

In the past, the White Fang had treated the Atlesian military with derision and mockery. Their tactics were predictable, their response to any attack had been slow, and their troops had been easy to beat. These weaknesses had allowed the Faunus radicals to operate in Atlas with near impunity. At one point, they'd stolen so much dust from SDC trains that the company had been forced to halt shipments entirely.

But within the past year, the Atlesians had started to change their strategy, and it had produced significant problems for the White Fang.

Dust robberies had turned to ambushes. Informants were being captured or killed outright at a higher rate than earlier. Recruitment had started to drop.

Morale had dropped even further when it had been discovered that the newly-appointed Grand Admiral Thrawn had been the one tasked with dealing with the organization's Atlas cells.

Now, the mere sight of an Atlesian airship hovering off the ground was enough to frighten even the battle-hardened Lieutenants.

Because of these troubling times, everyone at the base was now almost always on full alert. The guards were making thorough sweeps of every nook and cranny and, to the chagrin of many, periodically forcing members to remove their masks so that they could be properly identified. Anyone who didn't match the register was to be summarily executed.

Alas, the White Fang had grown so concerned with checking for signs of trouble on the inside that they had in turn grown a little too negligent of their external surroundings, such as the cypress forest about half a mile to the south of the compound.

On the edge of said forest, secluded by the foliage, sat two hooded figures that were observing the base with binoculars.

The cloaks unfortunately did a poor job of hiding their faces. Not that it would make a difference, for they wore grey, skull-shaped helmets that completely encased their heads.

"Idiots," Sergeant Kreel derisively remarked, his voice minutely amplified by his helmet, "They never learn."

"I don't know why you're complaining," his companion, a Private First Class by the name of Misty, retorted, "I sure as hell 'aint."

Kreel was the leader of Atlas' Special Commando Advanced Recon squadron, known colloquially as SCAR squad. The unit was attached to the overarching Joint Advanced Operations Command, or JAOCOM.

The squad's members wore a set of battle armor designed specifically for AO soldiers that was designated _Katarn_ , after an ancient Grimm rumored to lurk in the swamps of Mistral. The armor was originally intended for use by foot soldiers in the Ground Forces. However, it was rejected, as it was considered too fear-inducing and thus inappropriate for widespread use in a time of peace.

But because Advanced Operations was significantly smaller than the Ground Forces and because its operatives tended to generally avoid the public eye, they weren't bound by such restrictions. And the branch needed a new set of armor that was distinct from other branches and reliable in any sort of environment the operatives were bound to face. Thus, the _Katarn_ armor found a new purpose.

Considered one of AO's most elite units, SCAR squad specialized in both assassination and hunter-killer missions. In the case of the former, they would be deployed to eliminate high-value targets (HVTs) among the White Fang, such as informants, local leaders, and recruiters. For the latter, they would act as deep reconnaissance, scouting for larger targets, like bases and hideouts, and transmitting their location to bombardment units or other commando squads.

Key to these missions was the fact that SCAR squad had Faunus in their ranks, making the unit ideal for infiltration and subterfuge missions against the White Fang.

"I don't see why we can't just kill 'em ourselves." Misty gestured towards his beloved weapon, a PSR-21-II semi-automatic sniper rifle, which lay against a tree.

Kreel rolled his eyes.

"Because the objective isn't simply to take out their regional bigwigs. Command also wants the base searched and destroyed. And in case you've forgotten, we've got no rockets or explosives since both of our heavy weapons specialists are still recovering from our mission in Menagerie."

Two weeks prior, SCAR squad had been sent to the Faunus-inhabited island as part of an attempt to assassinate Sienna Khan, the current leader of the White Fang, and other top officials at a meeting they were holding. While they had managed to to kill several of Khan's immediate subordinates and take one hostage, Khan himself had escaped. To make matters worse, the squad's two heavy weapons specialists, Shrap and Zuke, had both been severely wounded in the ensuing firefight.

"Good times," Misty declared cheerily, "Remember when Zuke threw all his grenades at that Lieutenant with the huge flail?"

Despite the serious nature of their mission, Kreel couldn't help but grin underneath his helmet.

"Yup. Blew that giant bastard and everyone around him to smithereens."

The two soldiers chuckled, though they were interrupted by a beeping sound on Kreel's radio.

"Yeah?" he answered.

The voice of Mic, a fox Faunus who served as SCAR Squad's slicer, crackled over the radio.

"New recruits are due to arrive by Bullhead five days from now. ETA is around 1830 hours."

"What about the main targets? Are they still in the base?"

"Affirmative. They've been ordered to remain on site in response to the attempt on Khan."

"Good work, Mic. Switch off and lay low. At nightfall, rendezvous with Aero and Cav for extraction."

"Roger. Mic out."

Kreel sighed and rose from his cover.

"Come on. Let's go give _Devastator_ the good news."

"Right."

Misty grabbed his sniper rifle and followed.

The two men trekked deeper into the forest until they came across the clearing where their Bullhead was hidden. Kreel went inside to transmit the message while Misty stood guard.

Inside the base, Mic switched off his radio and re-assumed the persona of Fennek Rüppel, a snappy ex-SDC laborer from the seedy parts of Eastern Atlas' Kaltenhaven District.

* * *

**Present day – September 24th  
1830 hours**

_This is so boring!_ , the deck officer thought to himself as he stood guard at the landing pad. The other sentries shared his sentiments, as evidenced by their somewhat drooping stature.

As much as they feared the Atlesians, that didn't make their jobs any less dull. What were they even supposed to be on the lookout for? A freaking warship? Granted, they might as well surrender if a _Victory_ popped up above them.

The sound of Bullhead engines snapped the sentries back to attention, causing them to look up and notice a pair of the large transports approaching the base.

According to the deck officer's manifesto, the Bullheads were supposed to be carrying new recruits to be dropped off at the base.

This caused him to grin under his mask. Toying with the newbies was always fun.

As the two transports touched down on the pad, the three Faunus approached them, eager to get a look at the grunts who'd signed up to join the White Fang's noble crusade against the humans.

One of the sentries reached towards the Bullhead on the left and banged on the passenger bay door with his knuckles.

"Open up, you maggots!"

The three of them chuckled. They could imagine the frightened faces of the recruits as they realized that things weren't all cozy with the White Fang.

To their mild surprise, the door immediately swung upwards, revealing the passengers.

While checking his manifesto once more, out of the corner of his eye, the deck officer noticed a confused expression on his subordinate's face.

"What the–"

The rest of the sentry's exclamation went unfinished, as he suddenly fell back, a bullet hole in his forehead.

Reacting instinctively, the deck officer dropped his clipboard and went for the pistol at his side holster, only to meet a similar fate in the form of a plasma round to his skull.

The remaining sentry was also quickly picked off. He didn't even have a chance to scream before his corpse hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

After a few seconds of silence, an armored figure stepped out of one of the Bullheads, holding the silenced PCR-26-III with which it had killed two of the sentries.

It would've been understandable to mistake the figure for a foot soldier in the Atlesian military. While it was certainly in the employ of Atlas and carried a modified version of the Ground Forces' standard combat rifle, the similarities ended there. For this soldier's armor was completely black, in contrast to the grey color given to standard Atlas infantry.

Additionally, while regular soldiers wore a helmet that at least revealed their mouth, the angular faceplate of this thing's _Katarn_ -style helmet covered everything. Where there should've been a mouth, there was instead a small metallic grille in between two large, dark green lights, each a somewhat lighter hue than the tint of the polarizing visor that covered the creature's eyes.

The humanoid turned back towards the Bullheads and uttered a command. To an outsider's ears, it would have sounded like utter gibberish, owing to the voice scrambler built into the soldier's helmet.

His comrades inside the transports, however, understood the order clearly.

" _Area secure. Move out."_

An additional eleven such soldiers quickly filed out of the Bullheads, each armed to the teeth with various weapons of his or her own specialty.

The curved armor plates that covered their shoulders each bore a small, grey emblem. It consisted of the Atlesian roundel, except with the torch that ran through the center replaced with a _ninjato_ sword: a reference to the shadow assassins of Mistrali lore. This mark identified those who bore it as members of Atlas' 1st Advanced Warfare Squad, also known as Schatten Squad.

These men and women were death troopers, the Atlesian military's own special operations forces. Drawn from the most proficient ranks of both Advanced Operations and the Ground Forces, they had all undergone rigorous training in all sorts of environments and been given classified medical and surgical enhancements which made them faster, stronger, and more resilient than the average Atlesian foot soldier. As per their secretive nature, they'd also given up the names they held before, instead going by callsigns.

Their black armor was coated with a special polymer that warped signals from motion detectors, making the death troopers nearly invisible to sensors and well-suited for stealth operations – operations like the one they were currently embarked on.

While some of the troopers hid the corpses of the sentries, the squad leader, callsign Spectre, raised a hand and gestured towards the base entrance, a large metal door with a small keypad.

The squad's explosive specialist, callsign Cherub, rushed forward and set up a small breach charge.

After making sure the others were a safe distance away, she pulled out a tiny detonator.

" _Detonating…now."_

The minute explosion destroyed the latch, allowing Spectre to kick the door open.

The hallway was almost completely dark, a sign that the Atlesian sappers had cut the power to the base. While it wouldn't hide the troopers from the White Fang, who had natural night-vision, the terrorists would be unable to radio other bases for help.

Spectre's night vision filter, standard for all death troopers, allowed him to discern a pair of Faunus rushing towards him. Either they had heard the explosion or they were investigating the fate of the deck officer and his sentries.

Regardless, they were unarmed. Shock turned to fear as the the two grunts realized what was standing in front of them.

With two simple depressions of the trigger, Spectre added two more kills to his tally.

The rest of the squad followed him into the base, their weapons at the ready.

* * *

In the conference room, the three regional leaders sat silently around a table.

Ruseau Muntjack, a deer Faunus from Vacuo, frequently checked his pistol, a Winchester Model 75. Regarded by many weapons experts as the worst and most dangerous pistol ever made, owing to its tendency to discharge whenever it hit something hard, it was nevertheless favored by criminals for its cheap price.

Muntjack's skittishness was mirrored by Chantille LaPerm, an Atlesian native from Eisschloss District who had been displaced from his home by the construction of a dust refinery in the region. The cat Faunus tightly grasped his cleaver, his eyes darting every which way.

Xia Shih, on the other hand, sat at the head of the table deep in thought.

Though she didn't show it, she was as on edge as the rest of her comrades. The new measure requiring members to remove their masks for identification had been severely unpopular, as they had seen it as a sign of distrust. Was trust not one of the reasons that Faunus were drawn to the White Fang?

She didn't like it anymore than they did, but she saw it as a necessary precaution.

Her mind then drifted towards their opponent. Just as the dagger-shaped silhouette of an Atlesian warship struck fear into any White Fang member, the idea that Thrawn had some sick plan in store for them was enough to fill the normally stoic Shih with a sense of dread.

Even more frightening was that Thrawn's strategies did not abide by a set formula like most other Atlesians did. His tactics always changed and were difficult to follow. By the time White Fang strategists had figured out one stage of his plan, assuming they had such a stroke of luck, he had already moved on to the next stage.

An explosion interrupted Shih's thoughts. The Mistrali dog Faunus immediately went for the battery-operated walkie-talkie at her waist.

"Report! What's happening?"

"Death troopers have breached the base!" The panicked voice responded, "They're heading for the confer– _gakh_!"

The line went dead.

With the heightened hearing her dog ears provided, Shih recognized several footsteps amidst all the gunfire and screams, footsteps that steadily grew louder.

She'd heard stories of the ruthlessness of death troopers and how they would kill every single White Fang member they came across. In short, this was it. Despite all the precautions she and her fellow leaders had tried, they had failed. Resistance was futile and would only delay the inevitable.

She didn't even flinch when they breached the doors. Nor did she cry out in pain when the plasma rounds tore through her body.

As she lay dying, Shih's two comrades took the death troopers under fire.

Muntjack was slain with a shot to the head, the single round he'd discharged going wild.

LaPerm managed to disarm the squad leader with his cleaver. In the end, however, the trooper managed to evade his wild swings before reaching up and snapping the cat Faunus' neck, killing him.

With that, the Atlesian cells of the White Fang were now deprived of their top commanders.

* * *

The Bullheads flew away from the burning remains of the base, their passengers and cargo secure.

After completing their primary objective, the death troopers of Schatten Squad had searched the base for any important materials. They'd managed to collect hundreds of documents, data storage devices, and, at the peculiar request of a certain high-ranking naval officer, every bit of art they could find and carry.

Then they'd destroyed the base by setting off the explosives in the armory and igniting the fuel storage tanks in the motor pool. Cherub had also pitched in most of her stash of plastic explosives.

Not a word was exchanged between the troopers, for nothing needed to be said.

After about thirty minutes of flight away from Mantle, the dagger shape of an _Imperator_ -class destroyer came into view.

"Transport 17-3151," a security officer's voice crackled over the first Bullhead's radio, "Transmit clearance codes now."

Beneath her helmet, Lieutenant Ada Borchardt rolled her hazel eyes. Seriously, who else would be flying a Bullhead straight towards an Atlesian warship? The White Fang weren't _that_ stupid.

Nonetheless, she decided to comply. After all, no one wanted to be responsible for the loss of an entire squad of death troopers.

"Copy, _Devastator_. Transmitting codes now."

Ada inserted a Scroll into a slot on her instrument panel. It whirred to life and began relaying the clearance codes to the security officer aboard the _Devastator_.

After a few seconds, the officer's voice crackled over the radio.

"Checks out. You are cleared for landing."

"Thank you."

Ada switched off the radio and guided the Bullhead towards the hangar, the second transport close behind.

She leaned back in her seat and sighed, awaiting the long debriefing with a minute sense of dread. Ugh, with how stressful this mission was, she just wanted to collapse in her bunk. If one more pilot tried to flirt with her, she would probably punch them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -SCAR squad is here. For those of you who don't know what SCAR squad is, it's an elite Stormtrooper squad tasked with commando missions. How elite are we talking? Well, in canon, Sergeant Kreel has a lightsaber.
> 
> -Stormtrooper armor (and by extension, death trooper armor) is being included in the form of Katarn armor, though only for members of Advanced Operations.
> 
> -The sinister death troopers from Rogue One have been introduced. Why? Because they're awesome and, while they've been touted as the Empire's equivalent of Seal Team Six, we've yet to see them perform in that particular role (though they did kind of do that in the season 3 finale of Rebels). Don't get me wrong, they were still impressive.
> 
> -The code names for the death troopers are taken from Call of Duty
> 
> -For the White Fang leaders, I based their names (along with Mic's cover name) on different species of the type of animal that their Faunus traits are derived from (credit to SeerKing for the idea)
> 
> -Ada Borchardt is based on Flight Lieutenant Ada from Paul Johnson's amazing short anime-style film TIE Fighter, based on the awesome game of the same name.
> 
> -The fact that the Winchester family (as in Cardin's family) makes substandard guns is borrowed from Fanfiction author SeerKing's fic "Poison Promise." Also, the Model 75's problems are an over-exaggeration of problems experienced by the Japanese Type 94 Nambu pistol.


	3. React, Relax, Repair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update Log:
> 
> -(6/15/17): Removed Lieutenant Borchardt and Schatten Squad from the Chimaera.

_The Tagge Corporation, also known as TaggeCo, is one of Atlas' many industry conglomerates and one of the kingdom's most important defense contractors. Like the Schnee Dust Company, it is family owned, currently under the ownership of Grand General Cassio Tagge, Head of the Atlesian Ground Forces._

_Unlike the SDC, however, TaggeCo has not been the subject of controversy concerning Faunus rights. When asked about these matters, Grand General Tagge claimed that the use of automated machinery in certain parts of his factories and shipyards allows for better wages for his workers and that because the kingdom's Faunus population are just as much citizens of Atlas as the Humans, discrimination would not be tolerated in his company._

_Although Tagge is a member of the Ground Forces, the Atlesian Navy is his company's primary customer. TaggeCo owns several shipyards throughout Atlas that are responsible for both producing the new_ Imperator _-class destroyers and conducting maintenance on both the_ Imperators _and the older_ Victory _-class destroyers._ _In addition, its factories produce aircraft used exclusively by the Navy, such as the F-1 Nimbus air-superiority fighter, the_ Nemesis _-class gunship, and the_ Wespe _-class military dropship_.

* * *

**September 25th, 80AGW  
** **1445 hours  
** **Beacon Academy  
** **Library**

"We have a developing story coming out of the Atlesian city of Mantle, where there are reports of a rather large explosion occurring around 7 PM last night on the outskirts of the city. For reasons unknown, the Council of Atlas has yet to release a statement about this incident. More to come once we have additional information on the matter."

Blake Belladonna frowned at the computer screen after the Vale News Network broadcast ended. For obvious reasons, at least to Headmaster Ozpin and her three teammates, she knew the White Fang had an important base in Mantle.

And even though she was currently suffering from lack of sleep, the cat Faunus had a sneaking suspicion that this explosion was part of a military operation. If that was the case, then there was only one person who could be responsible.

For the sake of confirmation, she typed in a keyword and cycled through a list of headlines until she came to one dated a year ago. And lo and behold,

**Grand Admiral Thrawn Declares War on White Fang's Atlas Cells**

Blake remembered first reading of the snake Faunus' promotion during her early years as a White Fang agent. As Atlas was considered the #1 enemy of all Faunus, the idea that its military would employ one in a high-ranking position was absolutely shocking. Even more shocking was the rise in Faunus recruitment to all branches of the military that had occurred following Thrawn's ascension, which some Faunus apparently saw as a sign that more opportunities in the military were available to them.

She hadn't taken much stock in his campaign, owing to the fact that she had been operating in Vale during the year in which it had first been announced, two years before her desertion. Though she had heard fellow members talking amongst themselves about him and how he had somehow turned the tables on their brothers and sisters in Atlas.

If Blake's hypothesis was correct, then those rumors she'd heard had a large degree of truth to them.

Suddenly, a red dot appeared on the screen. Blake watched it rise up and down on the screen before it moved to her right hand.

She glared over her shoulder to see the offending party.

Only to find no one. Everyone she could see was either browsing the bookshelves or using the other computers scattered throughout the library.

After watching about two seconds, Blake turned her attention back to the computer screen. To her relief, the dot had disappeared.

That relief was short-lived, however, as it immediately reappeared on her hand before vanishing and popping up again on the screen.

She watched it move around again on the screen before squeezing her eyes shut.

_This isn't happening. It's just a result of the lack of sleep._

When she opened them, Blake found that, much to her frustration, she was not hallucinating. There was indeed a bright, red dot vying for her attention.

With a growl of irritation, she pounded the desk with her fists before rising from the chair and whirling around, ready to punch whoever was distracting her.

She then noticed the dot was on the floor and began to follow it as it moved, finally deciding to play this sick mastermind's game. If it turned out to be Sun trying again to ask her to the dance, Blake couldn't guarantee that she would spare him.

After following the dot down the library, she found the source of the dot standing right in front of her.

"Hello~," Yang Xiao Long cheerfully greeted her with a wave, a laser pointer in her other hand.

"What are you–" Blake began to ask.

"We need to talk," Yang declared after grabbing her hand.

With a surprised yelp, Blake was dragged away from the library by her partner for a talk.

* * *

**Kingdom of Atlas  
Nebligesland District  
** **5,000 feet above the city of Dolchstadt  
** **ANV** _**Chimaera  
** _ **Admiral's Cabin**

Contrary to popular belief, members of the Atlesian Military occasionally had downtime on their hands.

This was especially true aboard the _Chimaera_ , though everyone had their own way of using it.

The enlistees would converse amongst themselves about various topics or communicate with their loved ones, usually either to check in on them or to rave about how excited they were to be part of the Atlesian Navy's most prized and sought-after fleet.

The destroyer's captain would take leisurely walks around the ship, making sure that everyone was acclimated to life aboard an _Imperator_.

Then there was Thrawn, who would always choose to indulge in his art collection, consisting of various works from all four kingdoms.

Currently, his attention was held by two swords from Mistral, each from different locales within the kingdom and of different designs.

On the left was a xiphos that had been forged in the kingdom's northern region about 50 years ago. Its double-edged blade bore a similar shape to that of one of the three forms of Miló, the signature weapon of Pyrrha Nikos, the legendary champion of Mistral's Regional Tournament for 4 years.

To its right sat a _katana_ that, according to the inscriptions on the blade's tang, had been forged in the southern village of Kuchinashi a hundred years prior to the Great War.

Maybe it was because of the smooth curve of its single-edged blade or because of the wavy _hamon_ that outlined the transition between the low-carbon soft steel and the high-carbon hard steel used to forge the sword, but Thrawn found the _katana_ the most aesthetically pleasing out of the two weapons on his desk. It was truly amazing how such a lethal blade could also possess such elegance.

A loud _beep_ derailed the Grand Admiral's train of thought and he looked up to see a light flashing on his intercom. Stifling his irritation, he reached for it and pressed the talk button.

"Yes?"

The voice of the _Chimaera_ 's captain replied.

"We're approaching the Dolchstadt Shipyard now, sir. Also, Grand Admiral Grunger wishes to speak to you."

"Very well, patch him through."

"Yes, sir."

As the connection closed, Thrawn turned his attention to the LCD screen situated at the far end of his desk.

The image of a middle-aged man appeared. Like Thrawn, he was dressed in the white uniform of a Grand Admiral. The black color of his goatee and thick, short mustache matched that of his neatly-cropped hair. Green eyes sat upon a pale face whose skin seemed stretched taut.

Grand Admiral Josef Grunger, Commander of the Atlesian 3rd Air Fleet, also known as "Red Hammer Squadron," grinned at his friend.

"Thrawn! It's been too long."

"Hello, Grunger," Thrawn greeted with a nod, "How go things over the shipyards?"

In answer, Grunger's smile vanished and was replaced with a grimace as his shoulders drooped.

"Things are absolutely boring here! I never thought I'd miss the Coup of '73!"

Thrawn quirked an eyebrow.

"You'd prefer civil war over peacetime?"

Grunger shrugged.

"At least we had something to shoot at, even if it was our own ships."

"Are you forgetting that we had to spend six of the seven years since that battle rebuilding the entire Air Fleet?"

"How could I forget?" Grunger sardonically retorted, "I had to spend those three years sitting on my ass over Tagge's shipyards and making sure those _Imperators_ were built without the White Fang's interference. Just as I'm doing right now!"

The human Grand Admiral took a deep breath.

"But enough of my problems. What brings you back here?"

"Two of my _Imperators_ need to be overhauled," Thrawn replied.

"Very well. I'll notify Grand General Tagge and ask that he make the necessary preparations. Do you also wish to speak with him in person?"

Thrawn nodded.

"I do. In fact, tell him that Captain Pellaeon and yourself will also be present."

Now it was Grunger's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"I will, will I?"

The snake Faunus smirked.

"Yes, you will. It's time you take a break from 'sitting on your ass.'"

Grunger gasped in faux surprise.

"Well I'll be damned, I'd forgotten you could be so generous."

"Don't get too used to it," Thrawn admonished with an amused huff.

Grunger chuckled as the transmission ended.

Thrawn carefully replaced the _katana_ back in its mountings and resheathed the xiphos before placing them both back in their protective cases. Once he was done, he turned back to the intercom, flipped a few switches, and pressed the talk button.

"Captain Pellaeon, meet me at the main hangar and alert the hangar personnel to prepare my dropship."

He did not wait for a reply, as it was not necessary. Instead, he switched off the intercom and, having risen from his chair, made his way to the door of his cabin.

After just eight minutes of navigating the corridors, he was at the _Chimaera_ 's main hangar. But as it took longer to walk there from the bridge, Thrawn was forced to wait for an additional two minutes before the _Chimaera_ 's captain joined him.

Standing just shorter than Thrawn, Captain Gilad Pellaeon may have aged over time, as his bushy, grey mustache indicated. But behind his brown eyes lay the mind of a shrewd and experienced military officer who, seven years earlier, had played a decisive role in stopping a military coup that had threatened to eliminate the entire Atlesian council.

It was because of this role that he had been offered a promotion to the rank of Vice Admiral and command of his own fleet. Alas, he'd refused to don the all-white uniform and instead retained the rank of Captain, choosing to serve aboard the _Chimaera_ under the command of the most interesting military officer he'd ever met.

"Sir." Pellaeon greeted the Grand Admiral with a salute.

"At ease, Captain." Thrawn remarked, "Follow me."

They strode down the length of the hangar, passing a column of marching ensigns who were singing the _Westerwaldlied_ , a popular marching song amongst all branches of the military.

_Oh~h, Du schöner We~esterwald,  
_ _Eukalyptusbonbon,  
_ _Über Deine Höhen pfeift der Wind,  
_ _So kalt,  
_ _Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein,  
_ _Dringt tief ins Herz hinein!_

Pellaeon, being a native of Atlas' Westerwald region, had often heard the tune being sung by workers as they went into the forests and thus knew it by heart.

So, he hummed the rest of it as he continued to follow Thrawn.

The two men entourage soon came to a _Wespe_ -class dropship, distinguishable by its elongated cockpit that housed a pilot and gunner, its troop cabin, similar in size to that of a Bullhead, and the pair of large wings protruding from its fuselage, plus another pair of smaller wings mounted atop the troop cabin.

As soon as its passengers were aboard, the cabin doors closed, and the dropship departed from the _Chimaera_. Because there were no windows, the passengers could not see a single thing. There were also no seats, forcing them to stand and grasp the handles for support.

After about seven minutes of flight, the ship deposited Thrawn and Pellaeon at a landing pad in front of a large building that housed the shipyard's administrative sector. Situated behind the drydocks, the building's top floor contained Tagge's office, which allowed for a view of the entire shipyard.

They walked to the main entrance and were greeted by a female officer who wore an armband bearing the TaggeCo logo.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she spoke in a clipped, professional voice, "If you would follow me. Grand General Tagge is expecting you."

The woman guided them through the lobby of the building, bustling with officers and scientists, to a row of elevators.

Though the building was 12 stories high, the elevator's high speed meant that the trip to the top floor took a little over a minute.

After arriving at the 12th floor, they walked down several more corridors before arriving at a large pair of doors that presumably led to Tagge's office.

"Please wait here." the woman instructed. She then opened one of the doors and went inside, leaving the four men waiting outside.

"It still amazes me how Tagge can run both an army and a company at the same time," Pellaeon mused.

Thrawn nodded in agreement. What was truly surprising was that Tagge was able to manage both organizations effectively, apparently possessing both a keen eye for military tactics and skills as a businessman that rivaled that of Jacques Schnee, save for the fact that Tagge actually cared about his workers unlike the Schnee scion.

"You!" an accusatory voice cried out from behind them.

The Grand Admiral and Captain both whirled around to face the source of the noise.

Said source turned out to be Rear Admiral Blitzer Harrsk. The left half of his pale-skinned face was marred by pink scar tissue, and where there should've been a blue eye to match that on the right side, there was a cybernetic replacement that glowed a bright yellow.

These imperfections were the result of an attack five years ago, while Harrsk had been on leave. As he was stopped at a traffic light, a White Fang suicide bomber had thrown himself against his car and blown himself up. The ensuing explosion had somehow left Harrsk alive, but had scarred the left half of his face and sent shrapnel into his left eye.

Though subsequent surgical operations had saved his life, the experience had left him with a burning, bitter hatred of all Faunus, making him a fierce opponent to Thrawn.

"I see the Council is still letting you out of the cage," the Commander of the Navy's 5th Destroyer Squadron, nicknamed "Arrowhead Squadron," remarked disdainfully.

"I will say it once more, Harrsk," Thrawn retorted, his reptilian eyes narrowing, "I had nothing to do with your injuries."

Harrsk narrowed his blue eye to match Thrawn's glare.

"Maybe so. But it's thanks to _you_ that the ranks of our military are now filled with criminals and traitors! You should be shot along with the rest of them!"

Thrawn turned to his subordinate.

"Incredible, isn't it, Captain Pellaeon?" he asked coolly.

"What is, sir?"

"That Harrsk makes such bigoted remarks and yet wonders why, despite his tactical prowess, he has been continuously passed over for promotion."

"How dare you!" The Rear Admiral snarled.

"Oh, I dare." the snake Faunus retorted, "Things are changing, Harrsk. It's not my fault if you fail to recognize that fact."

"I'll beat your arrogant hide senseless, Faunus trash!" Harrsk roared.

In a sudden rapture of his normally calm demeanor, Thrawn hissed and clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with fury. Though he wasn't often known for losing his temper, save for when someone insulted a piece of art, Harrsk was one of a select few exceptions.

"And what is going on here?" a new voice chimed in.

The three men turned to see Grand General Cassio Tagge, with Grunger and the female officer from earlier at his side. Evidently, he'd come out of his office to greet Thrawn and Pellaeon.

Tagge was a tall and thickly built man, with fair skin, brown eyes and hair, and a broad face that sported a cleft chin. Though he wore the grey tunic and matching pants that were the typical attire of an Atlesian officer, he was easily recognizable by his long, flaring sideburns.

The owner of TaggeCo and Head of the Atlesian Ground Forces turned to the woman standing next to him.

"Brunson, please escort Rear Admiral Harrsk back to his dropship."

"Yes, sir."

The now-identified Brunson walked past Thrawn and Pellaeon and headed for the elevators. Harrsk cast one last glare at the snake Faunus before turning to follow her.

Tagge then turned his attention to his two new guests, who pivoted around to face him.

"With that out of the way," he stated, "It is good to see the both of you again."

"The feeling is mutual, Grand General," a now calm Thrawn replied with a nod.

Pellaeon also nodded in greeting and reached across to shake hands with both Tagge and Grunger.

"Now then, shall we discuss matters inside my office?" Tagge asked.

"That would be ideal," the Faunus Admiral answered.

Thrawn and Pellaeon followed Tagge and Grunger into the office, the door closing behind them and allowing them to converse in private.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Captain Gilad Pellaeon, the famous CO of the Chimaera, finally makes his appearance.
> 
> -Grand General Cassio Tagge from A New Hope and Marvel's Darth Vader makes his appearance as both an antithesis of sorts to Jacques Schnee and the head of both the Ground Forces and his family's company.
> 
> -TaggeCo also exists in canon, but it does not produce Star Destroyers or starfighters to my knowledge, nor is it completely affiliated with the military.
> 
> -Josef Grunger is one of 11 other Grand Admirals in canon, and he fills that post here as well. Here, I'm introducing him as one of Thrawn's allies and friends. Don't worry, he has plenty of enemies out there as well.
> 
> -Speaking of which, Blitzer Harrsk is a warlord in the post-Endor "Legends" universe. Here, he is just a Rear Admiral and the first of Thrawn's opponents that I will be introducing. Because his rank is lower than that of Thrawn and Grunger, his fleet is smaller than theirs, which is why I classified it as a "Destroyer Squadron." Also, in canon, he has a split personality disorder as the result of his injuries. Here, I've replaced it with intense anger towards Faunus.
> 
> -Brunson is the name of a female Imperial officer introduced in the Rebels show who tries to corner the protags on Geonosis and gets her cruiser blown up.
> 
> -The Wespe-class dropship (Wespe being the German word for Wasp) is based on the Imperial Dropship from Star Wars: The Force Unleashed.
> 
> -The Nemesis-class gunship is taken from TFU II.
> 
> -I'll go more into the F-1 Nimbus in a later chapter, though there is no relation to the V-Wing starfighter other than name.
> 
> -The Westerwaldlied is a German folk song and march used by both the Wehrmacht and the Bundeswehr, with Westerwald being an actual region in Germany. This will be the gist of marches used by the Atlesian military in this story.
> 
> -Mistral seems to have elements of Greek and Japanese (along with a hint of Chinese) cultures in it. I tried to reflect that in the swords that Thrawn studies.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions for how you want this story to pan out (Within the realm of reason, though. I don't plan to include anything pertaining to the Jedi or the Force, as this fic is focused on Thrawn), include it in your review.
> 
> Finally, if there's anything wrong with my portrayal of Thrawn, besides the fact that he isn't a Chiss (because the Chiss don't exist on Remnant!), please let me know.
> 
> So a few notes:
> 
> –Future Red is the name that fanfic author NicodemusV gave to the airship that acts as Ironwood's headquarters up to the events of Volume 3 in his fic "The New World."
> 
> –The Chimaera shares its name with the Imperial Star Destroyer that serves as Thrawn's flagship in both the Rebels cartoon show and Timothy Zahn's "Legends" novels. Since I included the Chimaera, I thought it would only make sense to also include her famous skipper: Captain Gilad Pellaeon.
> 
> –The name I gave for the prison barge, Tzoah, is derived from the Hebrew phrase "Tzoah Rotachat," which refers to a place in the valley of Gehenna (the Jewish analogue of hell) where a Jew who has committed particularly heinous sins is sent for excruciating punishment. As I'm not Jewish, this description may not be accurate. If that is the case, then I sincerely apologize.
> 
> –The White Fang propaganda posters are inspired by Chinese Communist Party posters created during Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution.
> 
> –Old Atlesian is pretty much Remnant's version of German.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is welcomed, and I'll see you all next chapter.


End file.
